


Falling on the Puck

by lalejandra



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Gen, Transformative Works Welcome, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-13
Updated: 2005-05-13
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:12:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: It's just helping out a teammate.This is part of the L&O:SVU AU game:Amateur Canadian ice hockey team.





	Falling on the Puck

Stabler's face is red, his breathing heavy and rapid. Olivia pushes Stabler's cup and beat up old Oilers breezers out of the way, further down his legs, and switches her grip, pulling harder, faster, with a little twist at the top. Stabler's moving with her now, his hips jerking, his fingers digging into the wood of the locker room bench.

He'll have splinters, Olivia thinks, then pushes the thought away and focuses on getting him off. Everyone else is in the showers, but they'll be coming out soon, and they can't see this.

It was a hard fucking game, and it isn't Stabler's fault the other team kept scoring. Actually, it _is_ Stabler's fault, because he's the fucking goalie, but it's a fucking beer league, it's not anything that matters to anyone except the players, and the players' kids. Stabler's kids, who watch their daddy skate around like he never played with Gretzky and Messier.

His face is screwed up like he's in pain, and he's grunting, and where his lip was split is starting to bleed again -- Fin's eye probably looks worse, but split lips hurt like hell, Olivia knows; her own lip is split, which is why she's using her hand. But her hand isn't working, he's not going to let it the fuck go, get over it, move on, he's --

Olivia bends down, is glad she at least got her cooperalls and all the pads off before this, at least her skates are off, and takes Stabler into her mouth. This is just buddies, helping a guy out; Stabler would never do this on his own, wouldn't even ask, would just go home and sulk, be mean to his wife and short with his kids. Olivia can help, and he should let her; she doesn't even care that he used to play with Gretzky, that he won the Stanley Cup with Messier -- that's not what matters. He's just a teammate; she'd do the same for Fin or Munch or Novak -- hell, she'd do the same for Cragen if he asked her to, or if she thought he needed it. Even the coach needs to get off sometimes, forget about the game.

It's a _game_ , she thinks fiercely.

Stabler tastes like sweat and stink and ice and losing, and she takes him all the way down her throat -- not hard, he's small, even hard he's small -- and swallows around him. Her lip, where it's split, hurts like hell, but it's good, it keeps her centered -- ha ha, she's the center and she's centered.

Olivia massages his balls, and she hums a little, and he groans, heavy, and comes down her throat. He's groaning louder now, shuddering a little. His hands are still digging into the bench, and his skates are still on, and one of her hands is twisted in his orange and blue jersey.

She swallows, and swallows again, and lifts off him. Her knees hurt from the floor, she knows better than this, she should have put her gloves under them or something, but she didn't, she was stupid, she's gonna feel this all night while she lays on her couch watching _Coronation Street_ , thinking about Stabler at home with his kids and his wife and his jerseys on the wall and trophies on the entertainment center.

He looks down at her, and he's tired, his eyes are red, he's just as beat up as his breezers, and he smiles a little, and she smiles back. He looks a little guilty, which makes her feel a little guilty, and she pushes that aside.

This is just because he's a teammate, just because he looked like he needed a hand -- she'd have done the same for anybody on her team. And they'd do the same for her, if she looked like she needed a hand. Maybe not Stabler, but Huang would, Novak, Cragen. They're a beer league, but so fucking what? They're still a team, right?

They're all still a team.

She probes her lip with her tongue; it hurts. She sucks the blood into her mouth to get rid of the taste of come and sweat, runs her arm over her nose and sniffs.

"Good game, Stabler," she says, and stands, and slaps him on the shoulder. "Let's head for the showers."

  



End file.
